


A Safe Place

by RoninReverie



Series: Old Kanera Fanfiction [8]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: F/M, Minor Character Death, Slavery, Tatooine, Twi'leks, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2019-04-26 05:30:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14395305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoninReverie/pseuds/RoninReverie
Summary: Tatooine Arc 5/5The mission to free Jabba's slaves is underway, but as always, not everything goes according to plan.





	A Safe Place

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr: [Link!](http://roninreverie.tumblr.com/post/139508268144/a-safe-place)
> 
>  **IMPORTANT!** This series was written before the second half of season 2 aired on television, so all content is based on my headcanons after season 1 and the "A New Dawn" novel.

“I can’t believe  _that_  actually worked!”

“Yeah,” Kanan whispered, his hands motioning as he spoke low. “We got lucky. Just play it cool.”

 _“Right…”_  Zeb hummed with a roll of his eyes.  _“Cool…”_

They snuck calmly into the large cave-like chamber, dark and full of music. On the floor in the center of the room, women of all various species danced as one larger woman off to the right sang a loud operatic type song that made Zeb’s ears ache. There were at least two Twi’Lek dancers on the floor, and from what Zeb remembered from this crazy plan, was that they were supposed to be here to free them all from this enslavement by the Hutt ruler.

Smugglers, thieves, and pirates of all shapes and sizes were enjoying the show cheering almost as loudly as the woman sang. There was also a loud shuffling coming from the huge Hutt mass sitting upon a large table-top throne. He was gargantuan! Zeb thought that he gave off an odor, but this room was enough to burn all of his senses.

They were outmanned, outgunned, and way out of their element. It was no wonder Kanan wanted to keep under the radar.

“So what’s the plan?” He smirked. “You going to hide behind me the whole mission?”

Chopper laughed.

“That was the only way to trick the gatekeeper droid and  _you_ know it!” Kanan groaned. He swallowed his aggravation and ran a hand along his face, releasing a heavy sigh to collect himself. “Chop, I need you to plan out our exit while Zeb and I make our way to where the girls and the other prisoners are.”

Chopper argued.

 _Other prisoners?_  The droid thought. _What was Kanan thinking?_

Zeb understood right away and stifled a chuckle.  

“Oh, a prison riot, eh?”

“Well…we need to cover our escape somehow?” Kanan shrugged off a half-smile.

 _This was another bad Kanan plan._ Chopper deduced.The thought was pleasing to the snarky little droid, but he didn’t want to be a part of it. He wanted to be back with Hera on the ship. She wouldn’t like what Kanan was planning.

Chopper protested this fact to the man, but was ultimately shot down.

“I’m sure Hera will be fine with it!” Kanan lied. “She’s not the one giving the orders down here, I am—so can you just do as I say  _for once?”_

_PBBBBT!_

Zeb laughed.

“You understand that thing pretty well… Is it always like this?”

He shrugged, only to receive a swift slap from Chopper.

_“Ouch!”_

The droid laughed.

Kanan let out an aggravated growl and pointed a finger to the astromech.

“Don’t  _make me_ call Hera!”

Chopper buzzed.

 _“Tattletale…”_  Zeb assumed.

Kanan gave them both a hard look which made Zeb rub a hand against his neck.

“Just tryin’ to translate…”

“Let’s just focus on the mission guys. Can we do that?”

“Hey, Kanan.” Zeb pointed suddenly. “What should we do about those two dancers, the ones on the floor next to the big guy?”

Kanan looked around the crowd to see two Twi’lek dancers, one blue and the other was the pink woman that had spoken with them a few days before. Additionally, there were two more dancers accompanying guests near the tables. This was going to make things harder, but thankfully he had planned for such a setback beforehand.

“We’ll use the riot as their escape, but first we get to the others.” He hurried along the back wall, using the crowd as their cover. “We only have a short window for distraction. Let’s get going.”

“Right.”

_Boop!_

* * *

 

They made their way down to the chambers fairly easily. There were only a few guards to sneak around, and sneak they did. Kanan was actually surprised that this plan was going so well.

Meanwhile, Zeb was antsy due to this being his first real escapade in over six cycles. There was a familiar rush to all this sneaking and hiding, though the thought of a fight seemed way more nerve-wracking than it usually did. He didn’t like it.

Kanan could feel the conflict between the Lasat’s unrest and excitement coming from behind him. It was enough to make him feel a bit guilty about dragging him back into the fight.  _Though,_  Kanan figured it was a far better option than the alternative. It was like Hera always said… _drinking and running away from the past was no way to live._  

_Not that getting killed in a Hutt Palace because of a pair of persuasive strangers was anyway to live either—but still…_

_Beep! Beep!_

Chopper stopped abruptly, but Kanan was not about to be fooled by the same trick twice. He halted himself and then Zeb before either of them could trip over the sneaky droid. With a disappointed groan, Chopper twisted the lock panel at the door until the panels slid open and strolled in as he motioned the two inside.

The girls panicked just as they had the first time, though upon seeing Kanan’s familiar face, the dancers started to relax a little bit.

“Told you we’d be back.” He offered up one of his roguish smiles, then he started waiving them to the door. “Let’s get out of here!  _Jot ten yoieu doptkee see wata!”_

“You speak Huteese?” Zeb asked with a blink.

At this point Kanan couldn’t really deny it.

“I’m full of surprises?” He said simply.

Chopper grated his binary.

Kanan ignored him and looked to Zeb with a new-found confusion.

“Wait, how long did you say you were living on this planet?”

Zeb shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I talked to anyone?”

Kanan rubbed his face down to his chin and groaned. There was no time for this, but he couldn’t help the aggravation.  _Get a new crew, Hera said–it will be fun, Hera said!_

He returned his attention and motioned for the girls to follow Chopper back out the door.

“Boska!” He said quickly, “Momeu! Momeu! We have to get out of here, now!”

The Twi’lek women looked to one another with a worry that soon faded from their stares. A few nodded to one another, and as a group, they hurried silently out the door and down the hallway.

“Roachee bu droida!” Kanan whispered. “Zeb, make sure they get to the  _Ghost!_ Do what Chop says, he knows where to find the exit. _”_

“You got it,” he nodded. “Wait! Where are you going?”

He pulled out his blaster.

“Covering our escape, remember?” He started back out the door. “I have to get the others up top.”

“Uh… Kanan?”

Zeb pointed into the room, where one lone little girl cowered behind the table. She was young… too young to be in a terrible place like this. Kanan didn’t remember seeing her here a few days ago. She must have been a recent addition.

“Go on!” Kanan motioned. “I’ll handle this, you get to the others.”

Zeb saw the look of fire in the young man’s eyes. He remembered that look well, it was one he used to see in the members of the Honor Guard, of his battalion, and in himself. Such a bravery was a feeling that he had not felt in a long,  _long_  time.

_Who exactly was this guy, and why was he so fierce?_

“You got it, chief.” Zeb nodded, and he turned to rushed off.

The Lasat was so used to giving orders and burdening the baggage that came with leadership. It was nice being bossed around for a change— _relaxing even._  He was actually happy that Kanan was in charge and not him. After what happened on Lasan—he just couldn’t take the pressure.  _Not anymore._  If there was one thing he could still do well, it was protect a few dancers and a droid. He wouldn’t fail this time.

Kanan watched until the group disappeared down the hall before turning back. He held out his hand, his voice soft.

 _“Jee banag bai yauma,”_  he said.  _“Haku doth mee peekasa?”_

She was maybe in her early teens. She had yellow skin and orange eyes that glared at him from beneath the table. Upon hearing him speak, she wrinkled her nose at his hand.

“Where is Daesha?” she growled.

“Daesha?” Kanan repeated. “Do you speak Basic, kid?”

She nodded hesitantly.

“Daesha is nice…” she murmured as her arms hugged the table. “She took my dance.”

She must be talking about one of the Twi’lek dancers up top. This girl might have been ordered to perform, but one of them took her place, and Kanan didn’t need the Force to figure out who could have done that.

“I’m going to get her out too,” Kanan said, his hand still offered. “But you’re going to need to trust me, and come with me.”

She thought it over.

“My name is Kanan, what’s yours?” Kanan repeated suddenly. They were losing their window. He needed her trust, and he needed it soon.

“Rol’juh,” she answered with a wrinkle of her nose. She still wasn’t sure how to feel about this man in the doorway.

Kanan smiled. She was stubborn kind of like Hera.

“Rol’juh,” he said. “I promise that if you come with me, you will never be forced to dance for Jabba or anyone else, ever again.”

She stared into his blue eyes, full of strength and determination. It was in those eyes that she could sense the trust beneath them, and she took his hand and nodded.

“Okay…”

He let out a breath of relief.

“Alright then… follow me.”

Kanan led them to the door and checked the hallway before rushing out and taking refuge beneath one of the many pillars in the halls.

“Okay,” he whispered, “This may get loud. Be ready to run, and remember to stay quiet.”

She shook her head and grabbed onto his shirt sleeve.

Kanan’s arm motioned the yellow girl behind him, and he took aim at the door locks where prisoners of all species waved their arms through the barred windows of their cells.

_Pew! Pew! Pew! Pew! Pew!_

With five well-placed blasts, the cells shot open, letting loose a whole swarm of prisoners packed beneath the cell doors. As the prisoners yelled for freedom, the alarms started going off, and the guards started coming down the hall. They had to time their escape perfectly if they were ever hoping to get past the Gamorrean guards.

“Time to run!” He said.   

When they rushed in, Kanan and Rol’juh snuck out, Kanan tossing his cloak into the air to cover their escape. 

A guard looked back and saw the garment in the air, but by the time it had hit the floor, there was nobody to be seen down the hall. With a confused grumble, the guard averted his attention back to the escaped inmates, and forgot all about the strange floating cloak.

* * *

 

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me…” Zeb groaned.

Chopper buzzed.

“I’m going to end them…” he growled. “Every last one of em’…starting with you…”

Chopper tapped on his leg, motioning for him to jump, but after one whiff of what lay down there, rotting in the darkness, he shuddered.

“Ladies…” Zeb sighed. “I’d like to apologize in advance for what I’m about to do…”

They whispered among themselves until Zeb grabbed all of them and kicked Chopper into the dark hole, jumping in afterwards as all five of them screamed into the trash pit.

* * *

 

Kanan pulled up his communications device and spoke into it, a cheeky desperation in his question to follow. “Spectre Two, what’s your location?”

 _“WHERE ARE YOU!?”_  Hera shouted.

He had to back away from the device her voice was so loud. Rol’juh only stared wide-eyed at the small silver tube as Hera’s cursing at him muffled beneath his hand.

She continued ranting, even after Kanan lifted his fingers.  _“Zeb said that you—”_

 _“Change of plans,”_  he interrupted her calmly.  _“I’m going out the front.”_

 _“No! Absolutely not! That wasn’t part of the plan!”_  She spoke quickly. “ _We agreed that it was way too danger—_ ”

Kanan rolled his eyes.

“Are you going to pick us up  _or not?_ ”

There was a pause, but she sighed loudly and groaned afterwards.

_“Copy that, Spectre One. We’ll be up in exactly 45 seconds. Once topside, we’ll have a ten second window. Be ready for evac!”_

“Noted!”

 _“You’d better be there Kanan…”_ she warned.

“Copy that.”

He grinned and turned off the device, pulling the short dancer up the stairs only to hide occasionally beneath the frame as the guards scampered by. 

When they were clear, he and Rol’juh crept along the outside of Jabba’s throne. Where there was once silence, there was now only chaos above.

Jabba was furious, and there was a commotion all around. The air itself felt tense, but it was not because of what was happening below them… it was what was occurring on the dance floor.

Kanan looked over to where the two dancers were before only to see them fighting off guards, climbing atop them like a warrior might, only to bring fists down upon their heads. The two additional girls from the sidelines were assisting them in their revolt, and one of them had gotten hold of a blaster, she was firing off at anyone near her. The dancers were beating down thieves and guards, until they were either struck down or thrown off, but they always got right back up again afterwards. It was impressively brutal.

A protective huddle swarmed the Hutt ruler as others fought back against the four rogue Twi’leks.

The pink dancer stopped fighting for a brief instant when she saw Kanan and Rol’juh hiding in the corner, the yellow skin of the young girl giving away their position in the shadows.

Kanan had already taken one step to her aid, but she shook her head at him to stop.

He did and her eyes darted to the young girl at his side.

 _“Fiyet xaeo onhso bo circaa!”_  She shouted. 

Just as suddenly, she and the others were ensnared by that familiar cable of Boba Fett. They fell together at the foot of Jabba’s throne with over a dozen guns and eyes pointed at them.

Kanan took a step back, only because the Daesha’s purple eyes were ordering him to do so. There was something inside him, a bad feeling—but he stayed silent.

The Hutt roared something about defiance, and needing chains on his dancers from now on. He asked the Pink Twi’lek if she and her followers were the ones conspiring against him—of they were the reason he’d hired Boba Fett as protection in the first place. He asked if she might beg for mercy, and laughed a thunderous, dark sort of way afterwards. 

She spat in his direction as she and her followers glared at the throne where Boba Fett, Bib Fortuna, and Jabba all stood over them in defiance. However, it was not the three of them who looked strongest in the room, it was the Twi’leks.

Jabba growled and shook the room with his rage.

With only one motion from Jabba, the floor at his throne fell open and the girls received a sharp kick from one of Jabba’s guards, sending all four of them and anyone else they could grab and drag down into the pit with them.

His mouth open, Kanan held out a hand as the nostalgic feeling crossed his mind. He tried to catch them, but the connection didn’t stick—his mind was too grey—too clouded. Kanan balled his fist when he heard the grinding metal door rise, but it was when the chamber echoed with roars and cheers that he let his arm drop completely—and then he heard them scream.

It was  _cold,_ just like before.

Kanan could feel it coming, and he held Rol’juh’s mouth with his hand, steering her head into his shoulder as she let out one bloodcurdling shriek. 

Luckily, the loud cheers, laughter, and the roaring of Jabba’s monster blocked it out. Not a single soul paid them any attention as they crept towards the door, not even the illustrious Boba Fett or any of the guards. They were all too busy watching the floor.

His Ryl was rusty—but Kanan made out what the oldest dancer, Daesha, had told him just moments before. She said to  _get the kid out of here._  She fought to give them cover. It must have been her plan all along. Daesha, knew what she was doing. She had volunteered to distract the Hutts so Kanan could get the other girls out—as many as he could save. Seems Hera had sparked a bit of rebellion in them since the last time they came in. She and her three fighters had sacrificed everything to save the others. Warrior instincts from long ago must have resurfaced in a few of them.

Yet…he wasn’t able to save them.

Rol’juh was shaking, tears in her eyes as she only whispered the same phrase over and over through raspy breaths…

“She took my place. She took my place.”

He patted her head, and led her towards the entrance. It was in sight now, the commotion drowning out behind them. He moved but could not stop thinking…

_How had she known that it would be today that they would return to rescue everyone?_

Kanan would have to focus on that feeling later. Those women had sacrificed their lives to make sure he got everyone else out safely. He would make sure that it wasn’t in vain.

He ran now, dragging Rol’juh behind him.

Meanwhile, Bib Fortuna pondered on the dancer’s words…the Ryl he recognized earlier had started to make sense now. He wandered towards the balcony and looked over the edge to see the escaping figures and ran back to the chamber to alert Jabba the Hutt.

Kanan felt a chill crawl up his neck, and dodged one blaster shot before he could even draw his own weapon.

 _“Youkesa hoohah!”_ Jabba roared, pointing towards the familiar intruder and his escaping Twi’lek dancer.  _“La doth dopo bai wahpiha!”_

Blaster fire erupted behind them, but Kanan had already spun around to send back a few shots. He turned abruptly as Rol’juh slammed into the durasteel entrance, her voice quivering as more guards began to flank them from the balcony with the sleazy white Twi’lek manservant.

“I really hate that guy…” Kanan thought allowed.

He let off one last shot to the lock panel, and the front door started to rise open slowly,  _too slowly…_

When the familiar roaring of a certain Mandalorian jetpack made the hairs on his neck rise, Kanan knew that they were running out of time. 

“I  _really_  hate that guy too!”

He thought up a quick plan, but only one feeling kept popping up in his mind. There was no time for anything else at this point. Guards were coming at them, and others were using the turbolift to surround the front gate. He had only seconds.

“Go! I’ll be right behind you!” He shouted.

Rol’juh ducked under the door and hurried out, only to have the sand swirl around her as the  _Ghost_  made its entrance.

Kanan swallowed, but held out his hand and continued running. 

_Just one more time…_

He felt it. The connection actually stuck! 

Through his rare use of the force, the door stopped opening and actually began closing.  It was already as low as his knees. He was going to have to slide for it.

The young Twi’lek had stopped just outside the door, and Kanan slipped through with just enough time to get his body out into the open before the door slammed shut behind him. 

He grappled Rol’juh by the waist and practically lifted her over his shoulder as the  _Ghost_ hovered above their location.

_Right on cue._

Zeb waited at the ramp and Kanan threw the small Twi’lek at him, before jumping into the ship himself.

“Go!” He motioned, shouting loud enough for Hera to hear. “Go! Go!”

The  _Ghost_ took off into the air and soon the blue skies turned into a black void filled only with millions upon billions of little white stars. Those stars turned to bright streaks as the hyperdrive kicked in, and then Tatooine was out of sight and far behind them only seconds later, leaving no chance for anyone on the sand-ridden hovel to follow or trace them.

They had done it…

* * *

 

Zeb felt as though he were about to pass out, half from panic, but mostly from excitement.

“You alright?” he asked.

“I’m okay,” Kanan breathed. “You?”

“Better than okay!” He smiled. “That was such a rush! You two do this sort of thing all the time!?”

Kanan smiled and held his head between his knees. He looked up after to see their rescued girls, only to count just four Twi’leks in the loading bay. He had pictured saving so many more. They had lost more than they had rescued it would seem.

There was Rol’juh, then a purple girl covered in freckles, a blue one with aqua eyes, and the last was a tan girl with stripes. All breathing heavily, and all too stunned to make a move, and all covered in Hutt garbage.

“Are you okay?” Kanan asked them.

Rol’juh spoke to them until their tension eased and she nodded back at him as tears started forming in her eyes. She sniffled once and the other girls crept in to comfort her.

Kanan stood and shut his eyes. There were still so many questions, still so much he didn’t understand…and he let so many dancers die.  _What kind of a rescue was that? Was it even worth it?_

“Kanan,” Zeb whispered, breaking his trail of thought. “I thought you were going back for the others—”

“They didn’t make it,” he said, his eyes lightly touched with pain. “They helped to distract the others, so we could get out—they acted on their own—I wasn’t—I wasn’t able to get them out…”

Zeb’s ears flattened slightly and he placed a hand on his shoulder. Not being able to save everyone—he knew that guilt all too well.

“You tried your best,” he stated sternly. “Don’t tell yourself anything different.”

Kanan nodded, but he knew that it wasn’t true. If he had been more patient, if he had opened himself up to the force sooner, if he had brought his lightsaber off of the ship—if he weren’t so afraid to be hunted down a Jedi again—he knew that he could have done so much more. He could have saved them.

_SWOOSH!_

Everyone looked to the upper deck as the doors shot open.

Hera stood, looking down upon all of them, her smile was wide with the thoughts of a successful mission, but it turned all too suddenly into a small frown when she saw only four lone Twi’lek women, Kanan, and Zeb looking back.

Her eyes met Kanan’s, but he looked away and took another breath.

Hera frowned, but cleared her throat so she could be heard from the top of the platform.

“My name is Hera,” she said, her voice strong against the feelings she truly wanted to portray. “My crew and I—Kanan, Zeb, and Chopper—have freed you from Jabba’s enslavement, and while you’re here on the  _Ghost_ , you will be comfortable, and I promise that you will be safe.”

Kanan swallowed. She sounded so much more like a leader than he realized. She even showed them a compassionate smile, even though he could see her hands running alongside the railing. She was nervous, and she was upset. Hera hid it well—but not well enough to hide her feelings from him.

“What are your names?” she asked, translating herself afterwards. 

Kanan had been telling her what he knew for the last couple of days, but she grasped it all so quickly that if he didn’t know any better, he’d think she was fluent.

“Seela,” The blue one said.

“Shiri,” the tan girl bowed.

“Feen,” the purple one nodded.

And Rol’juh wiped her tears and spoke at her also.

“Kanan.” Hera said finally, her hand motioning him up to her with a cold, questioning tone to her voice. It was the tone that said  _‘I’m so glad you came back safely’_ …while also acting as the one that hid the  _‘what could you have been thinking’_  tone that lingered secretly behind her words. She couldn’t hide that from him either.

“I know…” he huffed.

When the adrenaline died down, he noticed suddenly that the entire cargo bay smelled awful, reeking of Hutt trash and who knows what else. It burned his nose, but Hera didn’t even seemed fazed. _Of course she wasn’t…_

Kanan climbed up the ladder to where she stood at the balcony, and leaned forward to hear what she had to say.

“There were at least twice this many girls there a few days ago,” she said to him under her breath. Her voice was riddled with concern. “What happened down there?”

He sighed. “The rest staged a revolt in Jabba’s throne room. The woman we spoke with a few days ago lead them in an amazing fight—you should have seen them. They used themselves as a distraction to help us escape.”

“Were they—” She couldn’t finish the question because she already knew the answer.

Kanan looked away from her. He couldn’t bear to see the sadness in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Hera,” he said. “I couldn’t save th—”

Hera swiftly, but softly placed her hand across his mouth and he silenced. She tilted his jaw back towards her face until he fell upon her eyes, and she let her hand fall to his shoulder.

“You did save them!” she stated strongly, her green eyes burning with the sureness of that truth. “You gave them hope—we gave them something to fight for—and if they chose to fight…if they chose to protect you, then that was what they wanted. You gave them that choice. You did good.”

He cleared his throat.

“According to the others,” Kanan gestured down to the girls. “The leader’s name was Daesha. She wasn’t supposed to dance today, but she took the young one’s turn. I don’t think she saw us come in—it was almost as though—”

“Almost like she knew we were coming?” Hera pondered, her brows arched.

He nodded, but remained silent.

Hera shut her eyes as tight as she could. It was as though it would somehow erase what he’d said from reality. When she opened them back, the other dancers would be on the ship safe and sound. However, that was not the case.

The sounds of Zeb coming up the ladder and the groans of disgust echoing from below brought them back to the present.

“The girls would like to wash off this filth—” he gave a half smile. “So would I. So where are we taking them?”

Kanan looked to Hera.

That’s right. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. They couldn’t go back to Tatooine, and Ryloth was out of the question knowing how the Empire hovered around it like vultures.  _Where could they go?_  There was no way that they could all live in the  _Ghost_ —was there?

“I’ll tell the girls that they can follow me for fresh clothes and a place to sleep,” Hera ordered, her voice returning to its commanding tone. “Kanan, let’s get some food for them, and Zeb go tell Chopper to set the coordinates for Kinyen.”

“Kinyen?” Zeb repeated. “That weird shaped planet on the Corellian Trade Spine? Why all the way over there—and with all of the Empire sympathizers on Moorja?”

“Moorja does not interfere with Kinyen—” she informed, impressed slightly by his knowledge of the Trade Spine. “And it is one of the most peaceful places in this part of the Expansion Region. They’ll be safe there.”

 _“Hera—”_  Kanan inched. “I don’t think she’ll be happy if we just barged over uninvited.”

“Oh I know!” Hera gave him a devilish grin. “That’s why  _you’re_ going to tell her when we get there!”

“What?” He exclaimed. “Why me? This was all your idea!?”

“She likes you best?” Hera shrugged.

He groaned and placed his head against the rail. “You’ve got to be kidding me…”

Zeb hummed. “Care to let me in on the code talk?”

“Later, I promise,” she said. “First, you and the girls get cleaned up—you’re stinking up my ship.”

* * *

 

“I’m sorry, it isn’t much…” Hera said. “But I’m happy to share what I have.”

“The blue woman took the garments and nodded in gratitude.

“There are two bunks…” Hera pointed. “Two of you can bunk in my room, and the other two can go across the hall.”

“Thank you so much, Captain,” Rol’juh said. 

The soft sincerity in her small voice was enough to make Hera feel like she’d been shot out of the sky. She was so young—Hera couldn’t even remember what she did when she was her age, but it was nothing like the nightmares she’d been subjected to.

“I heard that Daesha was your friend.” Hera placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I am so sorry for your loss, Rol’juh.”

“She wasn’t supposed to dance that day—” Her copper colored eyes darted to the ground. “It was my turn—it was my dance, but she went instead. If it weren’t for that— Daesha would still be—”

Hera silenced her.

“I think… that she knew what she was doing…” She smiled. “I’m not sure how—but somehow, she knew. And she gave it her all to protect you. She gave it all to fight back. She was very brave, and you should always remember that. Daesha wouldn’t want you to be sad. She only wanted for you to be free.”

A tear slipped out, but Rol’juh understood.

Hera took in a breath.

“I’ll let you all get changed. Dinner will be shortly. You can join us in the commons room, when you feel ready.”

The girls all nodded and thanked her as she left the room and ran into Zeb.

“So, will we be bunking with the girls or what? I’m always willing to share—”

Hera shot him a look despite the fact that she could obviously tell he was joking around.

“No Zeb, actually, you are getting your own sleeping quarters. She took a few steps down the hall and opened the dark room. “This will be your room. You can do what you want with it—she’s all yours, but just warn me if you’re going to make any major modifications.”

“You got it.”

“And, I’ll keep it in mind that you don’t mind sharing your room.” She gave off a wicked grin. “Never know when we’re going to need someplace to store refugees in the future. You might be able to fit two or three more roommates in there with you…”

Zeb frowned.

“That isn’t really what I had in mind.”

“I know,” she hummed. Her arms going behind her back as she walked lightly down the hall, and into the dining area.

 _“How’s dinner coming?”_  Her voice sounded like she already knew, but felt it was necessary to ask anyway.

Kanan gave her a look in reply and set down a spoon.

“You know I can’t cook…” He said. “What I want to know is how you expect us to go all the way to Kinyen without so much as a warning.”

“Oh come on, she’ll love to see us.”

“And you just want to leave those girls with her?”

“They need a teacher Kanan—and I’d imagine after all this time, that she could use the help.” She sighed. “It won’t be forever, just until they can take care of themselves. Then they’ll be free to go wherever they want.”

He rolled his eyes. 

“I got a bad feeling about this.” 

The long pause was accompanied only by Kanan’s shuffling around the cabinets for ingredients.

Hera let out a sigh and leaned against the counter.

“Do you think Daesha was a Jedi?” she blurted suddenly.

“No.” Kanan didn’t look at her, but he stopped all movements for a brief moment. He spoke softly, and continued rummaging. “I thought so at first too—but the Jedi are gone. I think she would have chosen to trade dances whether we had come today or not. It was coincidence.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Sometimes things just happen… _that’s all there is to it_ …” he said.

Hera recognized that tone. He had thought about it. He considered that Daesha might have been strong with the Force, but after a while, he decided it wasn’t true. There had been rumors, but no one had seen another Jedi in years—a lot of people thought they were a myth. Kanan might have been the last of his kind—and that thought was weighing heavily on his mind.

“Kanan…” Hera started.

He looked up at her at met her eyes. She tilted her head tiredly and shook what she was going to say away.

“Do you have any better ideas on where to keep the girls safe?”

He broke eye contact.

“No…”

She sighed.

He smirked a little and stifled a laugh. “But I know that when we get to Kinyen, she’s going to blame me for  _your_  bright idea.”

Hera half-grinned back at him. 

“We’ll see, luv.”  

She lingered there for a moment, her eyes searching him over quickly before she blinked rapidly and pushed herself away from the counter to return to the cockpit with Chopper. She wanted to comfort him— _she just didn’t know how._

“C-call me when dinner’s ready…”

He nodded and she walked out.

“She’s not going to like it!” He called after her. When she was gone he sighed and continued cooking. _“I hope those girl’s and Zeb aren’t picky eaters.”_

* * *

 

By morning, the  _Ghost_ landed on Kinyen. Everyone had gotten a much-needed rest,  _even Hera_  who bunked in Kanan’s room against her stubborn insistence to fly the ship through the night. They flew in shifts, after that, so it wasn’t so bad.

 Now came the real challenge…

“Zeb, you and the girls give us a minute to warn our friend.” Hera said.

“Maybe more…” Kanan rolled his eyes and glared down at his captain.

“We’ll motion for you—” she retorted with her own look.

Kanan only huffed and walked down the ship platform towards the smallest little house in the middle of a garden-coated fence.

“Are you understanding any of this?” Zeb asked towards Chopper.

_WRBT! PBT! BRL!_

He blooped a few times, but Zeb didn’t understand him either and waved his arms through the air as he leaned against the ship with a pout.

The house was the kind of place from a fairy tale. A zen garden space, lush greens and colorful flowers all around. There was a nice walkway made of stones that linked all the way to the front door, and before they could even knock, the panels slid open to reveal the gray-skinned Sullustan woman, with white hair and a large scar burned across most of her face.

Kanan smiled wide and clapped his hands in an attempt to sound eager.

“Zaluna! It’s been a long time!”

“Uh, huh…” she replied quickly, her voice unimpressed and her chin pointed up at them.

“H-How have you been?” He tried again, his voice visibly draining from all of the before confidence.

“Well I’m still blind,” she smiled a little. “But I can see that you two still aren’t married. I can feel the unspoken attraction from here. What’s the matter? You two still not done fighting your endless war?”

Kanan huffed and started waving back towards the ship to get the others.

“Always a pleasure, Zal…”

Hera shot him a glare, but spoke softly. “Zaluna, we came here—”

“To ask a favor, I assume?” She chuckled. “You barely call, don’t visit—of course you need something. I’m old, not dumb.”

 _“Uhhhh….”_  They both started.

“Oh what is that smell?” She wafted her nose. “You have a new crew-member, don’t you?”

“Garazeb Orrelios, ma’am.” Zeb said, looking a little startled upon seeing the elderly Sullustan woman and her burned over-scar.

“You sound very strong…” she smiled. “You watching out for these two troublemakers?”

Zeb chuckled… “Of course.”

“Good,” she hummed. “They’re good people, they just have no sense for patience. Always off on some new adventure. Just the two of them— _alone—_ ”

“Zal…” Hera warned.

“Okay, okay,” she waved. “Come in, come in  _all of you_.”

Hera and Kanan waited as Zeb, Chopper, and the girls wandered inside. They each held their faces in their palms, Hera’s head lowered to the ground, and Kanan’s pointing up at the sky.

This was going to get worse before it got better.

* * *

 

They sat at the table together, a little awkwardly. It was a crowded space, but comfortable. The house was decorated with hand-made knickknacks and other paraphernalia that Zeb thought his Gran might’ve liked.

“So…” he swallowed nervously. “How do you three know each other?”

“Oh, we go way back!” Zaluna said as she watered the plants beside the table. “It’s a long story, I won’t bore you with the details… but we all came together on my home world of Gorse…oh about three years ago, I’d imagine.”

“Gorse?” Zeb repeated. “That the place with the partially broken moon?”

“It’s  _partially broken—_ ” Kanan spoke without thinking. “Because a crazy Imperial tried to blow it up!”

“I spent over forty years on that planet,” Zaluna interrupted. “I was a part of the Mynocks, a group that I lead at the time. We watched everything and everyone on Gorse and on Cynda. I watched Kanan for quite some time while he was working there—and it wasn’t until Hera came to the planet when things got interesting.”

“Interesting?” This time it was Rol’juh who spoke up.

“Oh, conspiracies everywhere!” she waved her hand around. “We put up a good fight, got into quite a bit of trouble with the law… and we lost a lot of good friends,” she paused. Hera and Kanan exchanged a glance. “I lost my sight, my home, and my business…but we saved the moon and these two were kind enough to buy me a house and move me out here to live in peace. It’s simple living, but at least it’s safe.”

“That’s some story,” Zeb said.

“Is that why we are here?” Rol’juh wondered. “Is this place safe for us too?”

“Hera, Kanan—” Zaluna motioned. “Join me outback for a moment, will you?”

They exchanged a look, but stood and followed her.

“Chopper, don’t break anything!” Hera warned. He was getting a little too curious with one of Zaluna’s trinkets that swallowed water and placed it back into the plants.

He retracted his arm quickly and bleeped at her as Zeb laughed, and the door shut behind them.

The backyard was beautiful, covered in intricate flowers and strings of ivy. There were even stone patterns in the ground that resembled Gorse from a transport ship. Kanan could recognize that view anywhere. Zaluna had probably seen it so many times that she could craft it blindfolded—or in her case  _blinded._

“Wow!” He was first to say.

Hera added to his statement. “It’s beautiful, Zal.”

“You tell me?” Zaluna grinned. “Describe it for me.”

Hera had immediately started naming the flowers and colors that she saw and where they were, but Kanan interrupted her abruptly.

“It’s Gorse,” he blurted. “It’s right over the Transcept Media Solutions building. It’s how the view would look on the way up to Cynda.

Hera looked back at him.

“Is it now?” Zal smiled. “Good. That’s what I was going for. Guess I still have a little insight after all these years.”

“Zal,” Kanan continued. “We’re sorry that we haven’t stopped by more often.”

“It’s been busy,” Hera looked to the ground. “The war, the missions—the setbacks.”

“I know dear,” she patted Hera’s hand. “I’m just giving you two a hard time.” She sighed and took Kanan’s hand as well. “I’ll watch after your Twi’lek friends and help them become re-accustomed to life outside of Tatooine.” She smiled. “I’ll even enjoy telling them a few bits of knowledge that might help them find work in a similar department to mine…but you two have to do me a favor in return.”

 _“A-anything!?”_  Hera stammered.

Kanan was astounded that she was still so sharp after all this time alone.

“Whatever you need, Zal.”

“Well it won’t kill you to come visit every once and a while,” she started. “But I would really appreciate it if you could go and check on a little contact of mine over on Devaron.”

“Devaron!?” Kanan coughed. “Contact? What exactly are you getting yourself mixed up in, Zaluna Myder?”

She grinned. “I told you that things got a little boring here. So—I do a little bit of listening in to transmissions here and again. I hear a lot about you two—your ship—where you’ve been going.” Her voice was suggestive, but she continued… “This Devaronian gentleman makes quite a few comments over the more secretive lines used by traders and thieves. But he’s been travelling lately and is in the process of moving to another sector. He claims that there are certain disturbances that are meddling with his operations.”

“Disturbances?” Hera wondered.

“A girl,” she said. “A girl in colorful Mandalorian armor.”

 _“A girl?”_  Kanan seemed confused.

“And what kind of things could this one girl be doing to stop an entire syndicate on Devaron?”

“Not on Devaron,” Zal chuckled. “Near Corphelion. From the chatter I hear, she is very crafty and knows her way around explosions. Escaped from a high ranking Mandalorian Academy too…”

Kanan and Hera exchanged a glance.

“So you just want us to check on this contact you’ve been spying on?” He asked.

“And you want us to do  _what_ —about this girl?” Hera eased.

Zaluna chuckled.

“Find out where my contact is heading, I would like to keep tabs on as many as I can.” She grinned. “As for the girl. She is attracting a lot of attention to herself on the Imperial chatter. She reminds me a lot of you two. I imagine that she’s worth a look. _Sounds about right up your alley?”_

“Another member for the crew?” Hera said. “Zal, what makes you so sure?”

“And what makes you think that this Mandalorian wants anything to do with us?”

Zaluna shrugged and turned to go inside.

“Old intuition, let’s just call it that.” She turned to them and smiled. “You had better get going. Cikatro Vizago won’t be staying on Devaron for very much longer, and then we’ll all lose our leads.”


End file.
